Out of the Blue
by jjbird
Summary: Jack is living a new life somewhere, Sam decides to do something about it. My final fanfic.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N**: This is one of those stories that stopped me from writing another. Sometimes you just have to give in. It's only about 3 chapters long and is set about 6 years after the series ended (I have a detailed timeline, so just trust me on this). There may be some familiar story lines and ideas coming through but that's to be expected with this kind of story... A big hug to my lovely beta, Mariel, who managed to sit at her PC with a painfully sore back to beta this for me. And thank you to all the regular readers for still sticking with the WAT universe. Once this is out of the way, I'll get back to my other fic, I promise.

**Disclaimer**: CBS owns Without a Trace, not they ever deserved it.

**Rating**: T. Oh, you know what I'm like...

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><p><strong>Out of the Blue<strong>

_Chapter One_

Xx—

She had been very, very careful.

It had taken five slow years, and here she was at last, technically just feet away from him.

A lot of determination and a fair amount of desperation had been involved.

Pertinent people had been contacted, her aim not known to them. Favors had been called in -and also promised- leading towards her aim.

A certain file had been sought and found.

Pieces of the complicated, difficult puzzle had been put together in a meticulous fashion that had tested her patience and resolve.

It had been painstaking, secret work involving using other people and at times she had nearly given up.

But finally, inexorably, it had all led her right here. It wasn't quite the back of beyond but it certainly felt close enough to it.

Taking a deep breath as she put her hand forward to push the door, she paused. She knew he was inside, working. Now she just had to step through the threshold and see him for herself.

Confront him, rather.

Opening the door, Samantha felt the welcome cool air from inside brush her face as a small bell tinkled her arrival in an old-fashioned way. Closing the door carefully behind her, she made her way to the pamphlet display immediately to her left and picked one up at random. Pretending to peruse it, she held it up to mask most of her face so she could survey the surprisingly busy store.

Just then a young male employee zeroed in on her and welcomed her brightly, asking if she needed any help.

Samantha courteously brushed him off. She was feeling a little more flustered than she thought she would be for no particular reason: At least there were lots of things to look at as distraction. Grabbing more leaflets, she began to look around the large store in greater detail.

Looking around for him.

It didn't take long, even with people crossing into and obscuring her field of vision. There he was, standing in the far corner, talking to someone, a customer probably. She could have watched him for hours, mapping him, as he gestured what was probably directions, before pointing out something in the pamphlet the other man was holding.

It suddenly hit her: he looked as though like he belonged in this place, and she knew with a horrible feeling that she didn't.

Perhaps she should go, just leave him be. This was a fool's errand of her own making.

She shouldn't be here, intruding on him like this.

Just leave him, the way he had left her and everyone else, without saying a word.

Turning around to get away, she was accosted by yet another employee, this time a woman –her name tag said 'Kelly'- asking with a warm smile if she could be of any assistance.

_Well…it's now or never. _

"Yes, I've got an appointment to see your manager," Samantha lied, willing her heart to stop beating so wildly and loudly. Surely this woman as well as everyone in the store could hear the deafening sound.

But obviously not as the woman just nodded. "I'll get him for you."

Samantha watched as 'Kelly' went over to where he was standing.

She watched as Kelly interrupted him.

Watched as the confusion washed over his face.

"Appointment?" she heard his voice faintly ask from her distance. Then she watched as Kelly nodded and pointed to her.

She felt his eyes pin her in place.

Xx-

_Oh, dear God…_

It was her.

She was here.

… And somehow his heart sank and leapt at the same time.

Momentarily thrown off balance, he rallied. "Okay, yes, I may be awhile…" Courteously he turned to the gentleman he had been speaking to before the interruption. "Sir, I'll pass you on to Kelly and she can tell you more about the white water rafting trip -it really is great," he added, his attention already elsewhere.

Xx-

The few steps he took to reach her could have been a mile.

She could only watch him approach and wait the excruciating seconds.

"We have an appointment," he stated neutrally, although his eyes were boring into hers with a horrified disbelief.

She tossed neutrality back at him. "Yes Mr. Boyd. I believe we do."

The store was busy with tourists so this was not the place. "We should get out of here," he said, taking hold of her upper arm firmly and leading her out.

"My car's right here-" she managed as he hustled her out the front door and down some steps.

"My turf, my jeep," he threw over his shoulder as Samantha trailed him along the sidewalk. Once at the old dusty army jeep branded with the store's name, he stood by the passenger side for her and watched as she climbed in, not offering to help.

It looked like something leftover from the tv show MASH. At least there was a safety belt. "Well…" she said ambivalently, watching him get in his side as she clicked it.

He shot her a look as he started the noisy engine. "Damn it, this is all wrong…You _know_ that, Sam."

As much as she was thrilled to hear him use her name and that he was admittedly right, she decided to press on, undeterred. "Then you'll just have to deal with it."

Looking away as he pulled out into the road, he knew the open-airedness of the jeep and its racket would halt all further conversation.

Which was required as he needed to think.

_What the hell has she done?_

_Did she have any idea?_

_Don't be stupid, _he mentally castigated himself._ She damn well knows __exactly__._

All Samantha could do was hold on, stop her hair from whipping around and wait for them to get wherever they were going. At least it was a beautiful spring day. Getting her sunglasses out of her satchel she decided to enjoy the view while he slowly simmered next to her, his scowl threatening to become permanent.

She risked a few covert glances at him, taking in the surprisingly slim and trim body that she'd never known he could attain; the grayest tinge to his hair she'd ever seen him with; the five o'clock shadow that he'd never have sported at the FBI. He was older, certainly –but then so was she- and he was wearing the years incredibly well. She hoped the same could be said for herself as she'd quietly turned forty a short time before.

He was steadfastly not looking in her direction, both hands gripping the wheel.

After an incredibly long -if picturesque- 15 minutes later of no talking, they turned off onto a road, then onto a dirt road and drove some way down it before stopping. He immediately jumped out of the jeep and went down a smaller track leading through the forest. Samantha knew to follow him, keeping him in sight as they skirted the trees. Making it to the stony bed beside the river, she watched as he marched to the water's edge and stood there, his back to her, hands shoved in his jeans' pockets.

_Oh yes, he's angry all right._

She looked around; there were boulders to her left, the gentle winding river in front of her, more forest on the other side. Quite the lovely spot, deserted except for them. She could sit and wait for him to cool down, or just go for it. Walking over, she stood a couple of feet to one side of him. A sideways look ensured that his face was still stony. After a minute of scenery gazing, she thought she'd say something, something he wouldn't have heard in a long time.

"… Jack."

That earned her a scorching glance.

_This may be harder than I thought._

A new approach was needed.

"Is this where you come to dump bodies?" she asked flippantly. "Because it's quite a nice place to end up."

It worked.

"No," he said levelly. She wasn't going away, that much he knew. "We've got a 2 o'clock catch and release group here today. Tick says this is where they're biting and I wanted to check it out. He's always spot-on." He kicked a stone into the water and walked a few paces away to look upriver.

"Postcard perfect," she remarked truthfully, still taking it all in.

"That's what we promise."

"'The Montana Outdoor Adventure Company'," Samantha stated. "I would never have thought that was your thing."

This time he picked a stone up and threw it into the water, taking a deep breath to calm himself as he watched it splash. "It wasn't, but needs must."

"It's a long way from New York."

Turning slightly at that, he gave her a look. "It's _meant _to be. That's the whole idea," he said in a condescending tone, but she was asking for it.

She knew she was, and carried on regardless. "No chance of Hawaii then? That would have been my first choice: the sun, the beaches..."

Rolling his eyes, he shook his head in disbelief. "If everyone in witness protection could choose where to go, then Hawaii would be over-run in a matter of minutes... They gave me the choice of Minnesota or here."

"Minnesota?" _Oh dear God…_ "I think you made the right decision."

"I know I did." Now he fully faced her, hands on slim hips. "I didn't leave by choice. I wasn't running away. I was forced into it." He bit every sentence with emphasis.

"The Jack Malone I know would have done everything single thing in his power to get back, to fight against all that."

He looked away, his jaw set. "That Jack Malone is long gone; he disappeared years ago to protect himself and his family –as well as his colleagues," he added.

"I know," she acquiesced.

"Why are you here, Sam?" he asked quietly, searching her face, which he never thought he'd see again.

She had rehearsed the simple line many times. "Because I wanted to see you."

It sounded so pathetic now.

Staring at her plaintive declaration, he then rubbed his forehead in aggravation. "But if you found me, then the cartel could find me… You've put me and everything I've built here at risk, Sam. I'm going to have to get in touch with my damn handler and get him to move me –all because of you." His voice had risen loudly by the end of the sentence.

"Don't be so dramatic; it won't come to that."

"Sam…"

"I've taken the utmost precautions. _No one_ knows where I am –they think I'm visiting my mother in Wisconsin. Here in Missoula I'm not even Samantha Spade FBI, because according to my fake ID, I'm Hayley Reynolds, sales rep for an outdoor equipment supply company."

Something amused Jack momentarily, despite his anger. "'Hayley'?" he scoffed.

"I didn't have a choice -and it's better than yours, Mr. _Chester_ Boyd. I thought the Marshals gave new names with the same initials, or that you got to keep your first name."

"Yeah well, they decided to completely wipe the slate and start afresh for me." Although he had John as his middle name, a token reminder of his past.

"They certainly did." When it came to witness protection, the US Marshals knew exactly how to make a person vanish. "It's a rare thing for an FBI agent to go into witness protection."

"But not unheard of…" He looked away again, to calm himself. The river always worked for him. "How's the team?" A safe question he felt, and he did want to know.

"I can't honestly say. I haven't spoken to any of them in a while."

"How come?"

"Things changed after you left the way you did; everything was strange, derailed. Vivian tried her best to keep us all but…" she trailed off, remembering how everyone had gone somewhere else, except Vivian who had a new team. Samantha had been the first to go. "I'm now in the Mafia division of Organized Crime."

The surprised look on his face was genuine. "Huh?"

Stepping towards him on the stones, she knew she had to give her reasons. "Once I decided to find you, I managed a transfer. I needed to go after the remains of the drug syndicate to make sure they weren't on a long term agenda to still get you and to cause them to distrust each other rather than focusing on you. I had to make sure you were safe before I could find out where you were," she said, making it seem like the most natural thing to do in the world. "I didn't just work it out and jump on the first plane here, okay? It's taken me five years to do this, Jack -_five years_," she emphasized. "I've been careful to the point of paranoia. I'm the only person aside from the US Marshals who knows who and where you are. I knew you were here a whole _three months ago_; I've been making sure of things, organizing."

Jack was frankly aghast at this information. There was something about her, a look of obsession in her eye, with the obsession being him. He knew she could be driven when it came to work, but he didn't like this; he wasn't even sure he knew the woman standing in front of him after all this time.

"No Sam, you didn't have the right to make that decision, to come here and throw all that at me."

"I had every right-"

"No, I don't care how damn long it's taken you -if you found me, then they could too-"

"But Jack-"

"No!" She just didn't understand. "You should have left me alone!"

Then he took a few more steps away from her before turning around again.

"I'm happy here and happy with who I am. Just let me go." He was amazed at how calm he sounded right there and then; he certainly didn't feel it.

Watching him walk away from her along the riverbank, she could have called out his name –his real name. She could have shouted something to get the last word in.

_He just doesn't get it._

_He's __safe__._

But she just stood, and watched the man she knew she still loved stride away, feeling the last five years of focus slip away from her. She could wait for him to return, but then what? That stubborn Jack Malone streak hadn't changed, even with a different name.

She looked back toward the woods they'd come through and then back at Jack's retreating back.

_To hell with this._

Xx—

Grabbing her satchel from the jeep, she then kicked a tire out of frustration before setting off the way they had come.

Christ, she couldn't believe him. It wasn't as if she was the beginning of the cavalry coming to raid the place. She'd been meticulous and he made her feel like a bumbling gumshoe.

She found a decent sized stick and decided to use it to swipe at the tall grass as she stomped along the track, wishing more than ever that she hadn't come.

_I'm a stupid idiot…_

She hadn't counted on him being so… so… _hostile _towards her. Happily surprised was what she'd thought he'd be, after any initial shock had worn off. Perhaps even impressed at her tenacity, but not like that.

She beat at some more grass as she walked, wiping away yet another tear that had run down her cheek as an old pick-up truck rounded a corner and hurtled past her.

_Damn allergy._ It had to be all the spring pollen. She couldn't possibly be crying tears for _him_.

She hadn't even gotten to tell him a couple things that he should know.

_Damn him. _

_All this time, all these years, all this damned effort, all for nothing._

She knew it was a long way back into town but she'd sure as hell make it there and leave Chester Fucking Boyd to himself.

The end of the dirt track wasn't far ahead. More long, innocent grass fell victim to the swing of her stick.

Xx-

After walking a way downriver, his mind was still fomenting with the knowledge of what she'd done. _Why_ she'd done it was still lost on him.

'_Because I wanted to see you' -what kind of half-assed reasoning was that?_

He let out a loud grunt of frustration as he halted. How could she have possibly kept him in mind for five years? What did she want -gratitude?

Jack knew he should return to face her, so he turned around with teeth gritted. He started back presuming to find her sitting and waiting on a boulder, her eyes and face still hard and edgy with purpose. That had disturbed him.

But no, he looked around when returning, she wasn't here. She would be no doubt in the jeep -and she could damn well wait. He hunkered down by the river's edge and looked into the clear, cold water. There was a twig by his boot, so he broke it into little pieces and set them floating off.

At least he could think in the stillness this place had.

"Ches!"

_So much for that._ He looked around at the voice, knowing it well. It was old Tick, making his way across the stones in his bowlegged way, like a gnarly old crab.

"Surprised to see you here," Tick said, making it to Jack's side. He put down the fishing equipment he was carrying and looked around, much like Jack did earlier. "So, you think this is the best spot for today?"

Jack stood up. "You said it was, so it must be."

"Damn right I'm right…" Tick nodded, squinting up at the sun over the tall trees. Tick knew what he was doing, which is why Jack had hired him; he'd been lucky in that as Tick had always refused to work for any of the outdoor activity businesses, but they'd gotten on well when they'd met by chance at the river four years ago. "Are you coming with the group today? I tied some new flies last night which you may find interesting."

Shaking his head, Jack knew he should, but…"I was going to, but something's come up. I'll send someone else along."

"Okay. I'm staying here to keep the spot and get some quiet time in before the learners arrive and upset the fish. Rona's at home scrap-booking so I've got plenty of time... You still all right for poker tomorrow night?"

"I'll try not to miss it. I need to win some of my money back off Rona."

"Hah! You, me and everyone else." Tick looked over at the other man and then behind him at the trees a moment, considering something. Picking up one of his fishing rods, he scrutinized it for a moment. "By the way, you anything to do with that woman walking back along the track?" he asked casually, but with deliberance.

_Okay, not in the jeep._ "Yep…" Jack reluctantly admitted.

"You know her?"

"She's a sales rep," he replied using Samantha's cover.

"Ah…" Tick understood. "Pushy gal, was she?"

"Far from it… But unfortunately she reminded me of someone from my past."

"She looked pretty upset." Tick may have been old, but his eyesight was still fairly good as he'd driven past her.

Nodding guiltily, Jack wasn't surprised at hearing that. "I was a bit tough on her, I suppose."

Tick mulled this over for a few moments before rounding on Jack. "Now son, that's not nice. There's no need to upset a lady and have her go off like that in tears."

"I'm sure she'll get over it," Jack said more carelessly than he meant; she certainly hadn't been crying when he'd walked away from her.

This did not go down well with Tick. "Chester Boyd, I bet your momma didn't raise you to be like that. Now stop being such a shit-head and go get her. It's a helluva way back to town and it's getting hot."

"Look, she decided to-"

"Shut the hell up and get going," Tick stabbed the air with a knobby finger, "or I'll kick your ass so hard your goddamned fillings will pop out."

"Okay, okay." Jack raised his hands in surrender, backing away. "You kiss your wife with that mouth?"

"More often than you credit me for, now get –and leave me alone with my fish!"

Xx—

She heard the noisy jeep long before it pulled up beside her, and hastily wiped her cheeks dry.

"Get in," he yelled. Jeeps were never made for quiet conversations, certainly not this one.

"Go away," she yelled back, trying to find her sunglasses in her satchel to hide her puffy eyes.

He accelerated and pulled in ahead of her, not quite blocking her way. "It's a long walk back. Get in," he repeated.

_Stubborn woman!_

Although tempted to throw her stick at him, she instead flung it back towards the trees. She got in the jeep, shoved on her glasses and let her body language make it clear she wasn't happy about it.

"Where are you staying?" he asked loudly as they started off again.

"Happy Trails motel."

He nodded, knowing it well enough; he'd picked up and dropped off clients from there.

"Tell me," he said after a few silent minutes of driving, "who gave you my name and location?"

"I'm not saying."

Definitely best Jack wasn't to know. The ways and means would have to be locked away, never, ever to be revealed.

After she'd been satisfied the drug cartel was well and truly washed up, and their revenge evaporated, the next stage in her plan was that she had to get hold of a US Marshal. Obviously, Organized Crime had a lot to do with them and she'd dealt with them several times already, so it wasn't hard to find a case that led her there once more. It definitely wasn't going to be one of the agents that had dealt with Jack in the drug case years before, and she knew which ones they were. No, someone else was needed, someone who would have appropriate file access and be willing to give her the information. It had taken some time but Samantha had found him –in his late forties, newly divorced, disillusioned, vulnerable and not unattractive. A 'chance' meeting out of work was made to further gauge his interest, some flirting over drinks and later a dinner together. There was some needful making out to lead him on and then a request of what she wanted him to do, the name to be given if he agreed. She made it clear to him what was on offer for the information and it wasn't money, and no, she assured him the info wasn't to be used for revenge. He gave it some thought over the next day, agreed and she told him who she was exactly looking for. Two anxious days for her later, he'd phoned to say he knew Jack's new identity. They'd met in a hotel that afternoon for several hours of (albeit Viagra-fuelled) sex. Safe sex at that –she made sure of it.

Yes, she'd felt like a bit of whore but this was a means to an end -although she'd needed the very enjoyable release. It had felt good to be wanton and thoroughly fucked. The last part of their transaction was finalized while Samantha was lying worn out in bed, trying not to be fretful that he might renege on their deal. He'd put on his shoes and had leaned down, whispering what she needed to know: _Chester Boyd, Missoula. _

If she and the agent ever did cross paths again, it would be with a most pleasant memory; besides, they had enough information about each other to cause a stalemate. The man had then left and Samantha was happy and relieved that now she was now the closest to Jack she had been for years. Nevertheless, slowness, stealth and planning were still required.

She'd never searched for Chester Boyd on the FBI computers –didn't dare to and wasn't stupid enough to try. In fact –after some thought- a simple call from a pay phone to the chatty Missoula information center supplied most of the details early on -as they'd booked trips for his business.

And then she'd gone out and had her hair blonded again, so she'd look more like she used to, the way Jack probably remembered her most. Her all-male team had thoroughly approved.

It had been a long time but it had come together nicely, all those months back.

Jeeps weren't as comfortable as Samantha had thought, squirming in her seat. "Don't ask me again," she said, succinctly.

Jack concentrated on the road; he knew she could keep secrets. Deep ones.

They were quiet again until Jack pulled into the motel, Samantha pointed out that she was in number eight and Jack stopped the jeep in front of it.

He turned in his seat to talk, but she was already out with her motel keys in hand. "Sam, wait..." She halted and pulled off her shades to look at him with wounded eyes. "Look, I didn't ask to be found... You've seen me, I'm alive and well. You need to go back to New York, go be with Brian and Finn and forget this whole 'wanting to see me' thing."

"I didn't come here to persuade you to come back to New York or screw up your life, Jack," she pointed out, hoping her voice wouldn't fail her. "Far from it." Turning away from him, she unlocked the door and went inside. Leaning against the almost slammed door, she held her breath until she heard Jack drive away.

_Go back to Brian? _

_Not a chance in hell._

Xx—

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N**: This chapter was going to be a _lot_ longer, but I've broken it up -otherwise you'd be waiting even longer to read something. So this may be 4 chapters instead of 3. It's what I call an in-between chapter, where you have to get from part of the story to another. My many thanks to Mariel, as always for her betaing skills. Any faults are mine for fiddling afterwards.

In the last week or so it's come to light that Anthony LaPaglia is going to be making a western on TNT, and considering the ideas for this chapter were formed months ago, I'm finding it a nice coincidence, and perhaps it's not as far-fetched now. You'll know what I mean.

**Disclaimer**: Blah blah CBS and Warner Brothers, blah blah.

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><p><strong>Out of the Blue<strong>

_Chapter Two_

Xx—

Back at his workplace, Jack sat down behind his desk in his small office, feeling quite wiped out. On his return he'd gone onto the shop floor to look after some customers, but his heart wasn't in it, so he'd escaped.

It was time to phone his handler, arrange a meeting and tell him what had happened.

The Marshals had been very clear on that particular point.

His hand was in fact hovering over the phone, about to dial.

He'd have to leave Missoula.

Leave Montana.

Leave everything he'd built up here over the years.

Start all over.

Again.

_Again._

Fuck, he did _not_ want that.

Pulling his hand away from the phone, he took a deep breath in and let it out slowly to clear his thoughts; he seemed to have been doing a lot of that today.

Samantha had tackled his disappearance like a case, and he knew she would have done so in a methodical and thorough fashion. It was the way they'd worked in Missing Persons and it was how he'd taught her. He'd worked with her, mentored her and -apart from all their personal history- professionally, he'd trusted his life to her on many occasions. He had to admit to himself deep down inside that she hadn't just searched for him and turned up for kicks –she said she'd made sure the cartel was taken care of first, however the ways and means.

And of course she wouldn't be here to talk him into going back to New York; she wasn't stupid, because that could never happen, not even for a visit.

Hadn't he'd relied on her in the past enough to do the right thing?

Why should he assume she'd screwed this up?

Because _he_ was the subject of her search?

And here he'd been tough on her.

Samantha didn't deserve that.

Not at all.

He mentally kicked himself for being the shit-head Tick accused him of being.

Something needed to be done, he knew that.

Swiveling out of his chair, he had just gotten up to look at the day's staff roster on the wall when Kelly came into his office.

Her eyes glimmered with amusement. "You didn't last long," she stated about his time on the shop floor.

Jack shrugged a little. "Not feeling it today… Everything all right out there?" he enquired of his assistant manager.

She nodded, handing him a small printout from the store register. "We've done some good bookings. We also squeezed in two more for Tick's catch and release -that couple you were speaking to the other day came back."

Glancing at the sales amount for the day so far on the printout, Jack was pleased; spring was always a healthy dollar time. He remembered the couple. "The California couple, from Red Bluff?"

"Yes, the wife in particular was hoping you'd be taking the group. Also, Troy phoned in to say the morning's whitewater rafting went smoothly and his group's totally looking forward to the afternoon." She glanced at her watch. "I should be hearing from the other groups soon."

"Good… And is Nate still wanting some overtime?" he asked casually, looking back at the roster.

"Hell yeah! He's been on my case, complaining because he needs to buy some new climbing equipment."

Penciling Nate's name in the roster, Jack made sure he had enough coverage for the rest of the day. "Give him a call and he can do the catch and release with Tick; the lady from Red Bluff will have to be disappointed, I'm afraid. I've got some things to do in the afternoon, so you're in charge until closing."

Kelly smiled. "You got it… And by the way, did you sort that woman out?" She'd been intrigued by Jack's reaction when he'd seen her.

Jack looked down at his desk. "I honestly don't know," he said truthfully.

That was good enough for Kelly; she wasn't an overly prying person. "Okay. I'll see you Tuesday then," she said, leaving him to it.

Work under control and grateful for no more questions, Jack picked up his laptop and exited through the back door, using the back stairs to his apartment which occupied the space over the store. At least getting home was never problem after work and it was part of the reason he liked this location. Putting the laptop on the small table by his apartment door, he then stripped off his company tee as he walked across the floor, throwing it towards the washing machine in the corner. Going to his small bathroom, he threw some water over his face and neck before drying himself. Running his hand over his stubbly chin as he looked in the mirror, he decided on a quick shave. A new shirt was also required, so he ferreted through the makeshift clothes rack that stood in for a closet, finding a shirt that passed the sniff test and threw it on. Then he made a couple of sandwiches, grabbed an apple and sat on his couch to leaf through the newspaper that was unfinished from that morning.

He wasn't in a hurry as he had a feeling in his gut that Samantha wouldn't be leaving just because he told her to. He knew her well enough –in all meanings of the words- to know that.

_Give her time to cool down._

After a while, when the paper was fully read to the last word and some further self-introspection was done, he made a phone call.

Xx—

Samantha groaned in frustration as she rang off from the airline, even though she'd known before dialing it would be a fruitless exercise.

No flights to Milwaukee today; the flight she had already booked for Sunday morning was the only one. Groaning some more, she remembered the rental car was parked near Jack's business; the Fates were conspiring to make her stay. It wasn't too far, but she wasn't in the mood to traipse along the highway to get it. No, the car would have to wait. Finding some change, she went out to find the vending machine. Some chips would calm her down, as well as various candy bars, and also a can of soda. Throwing herself on the bed with her food bounty, she called her mom to catch up with her and Finn.

All her team knew was that she was taking her son to see her mother and were under a death threat not to disturb her weekend away. Leaving work before noon on Friday, she and Finn had flown into Milwaukee early evening where her mother was waiting, stayed chatting for half an hour in the airport café and then she saw them off in the car; Finn had been loaded down with comics for the drive to Kenosha. Then, as Hayley Reynolds, she'd boarded the flight to Missoula. Her mother had Samantha's own FBI phone and a newly numbered burner cell to contact Samantha on her own new burner phone if anyone phoned from work. She'd also given her mother all her Samantha Spade identifications from her wallet to look after –she'd let her mother assume she was on some undercover thing, which in a sense, she was. If she were to play being Hayley Reynolds, she needed to do it correctly.

It was all fail proof.

And had been going very well until she actually saw Jack.

_Damn that man._

The enjoyable mother/son catch-up phone call over –Finn had been made a kite and was on his way to try it out- she turned on the TV to watch some news, opening another candy bar. After an hour of vacant staring at the screen, she heard a knock at the door.

Opening it, she was surprised to see Jack standing there, in a plaid shirt no less. She wasn't sure which surprised her more.

Then she remembered how irate she was at him. "I didn't hear your damn noisy jeep."

Jack tipped his head. "I don't use it all the time; I also have a sensible car."

Standing with arms folded, she waited for him to say something.

He could see her clenched jaw. "No more shouting, I promise."

"That would be nice."

"I'd like to talk –more calmly this time."

"Also nice."

"Grab a jacket and your things, we're going out."

"Where?"

He smiled the first actual smile that she'd seen from him that day. "To see a man about a horse."

Xx-

Jack hadn't been cryptic in the slightest, although he'd really meant two horses.

"When was the last time you rode?" he asked Samantha, watching as she tentatively stroked the forehead of her ride, Gus.

"Longer than I remember, I may have been about eight or nine." She was a tad wary of Gus, for all his gentle eyes, although she tried not to show it. There was something about horses' large bodies and their long skinny legs that worried her.

Hank, the owner of the trekking ranch, smiled; he was used to hesitation. "Don't worry, Gus's a kind old thing, you'll be fine… And I've got Little Joe here for you, Ches," he said, indicating another horse being led up to them

Jack took the reins and stroked the horse's muzzle. He'd ridden Little Joe before and smiled at the horse like an old friend. "Can we use the hill track?" he asked Hank.

"I was going to suggest it when you phoned –as you've already got two groups booked on the western and southern river ambles. Anyway, I think it's got the best view." Hank looked at Gus then back at Samantha with an expert eye. "I think you're gonna need some help getting up there."

That saddle was looking a long way up from Samantha's viewpoint. She watched in amazement as Jack swung himself up on his mount with surprising ease; she never, ever knew he could do that. Dealing with horses was not something they'd had a lot to do with in the FBI. All Jack needed now was a stetson to complete the picture, in her opinion.

Jack made himself comfortable in the saddle. Perhaps this wasn't the greatest idea, but it was better than hanging around his place, or anywhere else in town –the less people saw of her in Missoula, the better. At least they could talk/yell in peace up the mountain. Patting Little Joe's neck while he waited for Samantha, he found he was enjoying this already. He looked down at her, with a raised eyebrow, as if to say: _This old dog has learnt some new tricks._

She frowned back.

_Curse the man_. Sometimes it was hard to stay angry at him

Nodding at Hank's offer, Samantha yielded. "Thanks, I think help is exactly what I'm going to need."

She wondered how much her ass would hurt after this riding thing.

Horse-riding in Montana.

If someone had told her five years back she would be doing this, she would have laughed and told them they were crazy.

Xx-

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N**: Thanks to those who are still reading this, and those that take the time to review. I know it's been awhile but RL just comes along and messes everything up. The funny thing is this chapter was about 95% done for quite some time and only took a little bit of writing to finish. Big hugs to my lovely beta Mariel, who lost all her initial edits and had to re-do them! And for those who keep prodding and nagging me, you know I need it.

This chapter doesn't have much action and it's a lot of dialogue, but when you write something that has 5 years of backstory to cover, this is what you get. One more chapter after this and an epilogue.

**Disclaimer**: Seriously, does CBS and Warner Bros really care anymore?

* * *

><p><strong>Out of the Blue<strong>

_Chapter Three_

Xx-

Nature -some places have more of it than others, and this place certainly had a lot.

Looking at the view while firmly standing with her two feet back on the solid earth again, Samantha was impressed: Missoula itself was spread out in the near distance, the grass around them was a vivid green, the air clean and fresh, the sky crystal blue with high wispy clouds.

Jack returned from tending the horses under a tree. "There's a shady spot over there." He gestured towards a larger tree, before walking over and sitting himself down on the grass. Hank had given them a couple of bottles of water and he in turn gave one to Samantha as she seated herself next to him.

Making herself comfortable as best she could, she then ferreted around in her ever-present satchel. "I think I have some M&Ms…"

Jack wasn't surprised; he'd seen the candy wrappers littering her bed in the motel room. Chocolate and candy were always Samantha's go-to in times of personal crisis.

This certainly counted as one.

Needing something himself, he took the proffered packet, wondering what to say.

So far he'd easily filled in the time during their ride by doing his automatic tourist guide-thing -pausing only to take group update texts from Kelly- and pointing out various sights, scenery and facts along the way as a running commentary before coming to his favorite spot.

Samantha had been impressed at how much he knew about the place and had complimented him on it; she had to admit that her own Montanan knowledge was next to zero.

Throwing a few M&Ms into his mouth, Jack thought as he chewed. Stuff about the drug cartel could wait for later. Starting with himself might be a good subject, and he knew she was more than curious, but there was something else he needed to say first. "I'm sorry about before, by the river… I was harsh on you."

She gave a small smile. "It's okay. I should have realized the effect of turning up like that."

"Surprises are one thing –shocks are another. I can only handle so much… You look good, by the way," he said truthfully.

"Thank you." She was pleased. "You too."

"Friends again?"

"Of course -it's never changed."

Smiling at each other, they were both glad that had been settled.

Jack pulled off his shades and tucked them into his shirt pocket. "You should get to know Chester Boyd –he's a nice guy."

Gratified that he was taking that conversational direction, she took off her sunglasses as well. "Really? Tell me about him."

"Oh, he's pretty laid-back; a lot of people seem to like him. He goes with the flow all while making his business succeed –and he works hard at that."

"What –like some new and improved Jack Malone?" she ventured. "There was nothing wrong with the old one." _In my knowledgeable opinion._

"Perhaps, but he had his flaws and faults. Not everyone gets the chance to start fresh, to reinvent themselves. I mean, look at this place!" he waved his hand out at the view.

"But not everyone wants to start over," she countered. It was odd talking about Jack in the past tense with Jack himself sitting scant inches away.

He could tell she wasn't impressed. "Look Sam, I'm sorry all this happened. One minute I'm investigating a missing person, the next I'm caught up against the bosses of a drug cartel with all the shit involved." He hadn't taken being intimidated late at night by strange men and mail threats all that seriously, but others had, and they'd been higher up the chain at the FBI.

"That's what you got for going rogue," she said, pointing out the obvious.

Jack shrugged reflectively. He knew going off on his own cases had been a way of withdrawing; he'd felt that need after Hannah had left, and after he and Samantha had broken apart. "I feel I've paid for it, believe me –for all the chance to start again."

"It was awful Jack, you just went into protective custody so fast for so long, then there was the trial… I tried to see you in court on those days when you were scheduled to appear, but they were closed sessions."

"I didn't expect any of you to be allowed in." He remembered being escorted into the courtroom, and finding it empty of onlookers. "But any familiar face would have been welcome." He'd felt curiously small and isolated, sitting there, being bombarded with questions, feeling a lack of his accustomed control.

Squishing a red M&M between her thumb and forefinger until it cracked, Samantha stared at it while she spoke, remembering. "The last time I saw you, it was in the morning when we went off looking for a suspect –the Bellingham case- and you stayed behind. You said you were following up things on your own case, even though we knew you should've left it alone." It was all indelibly imprinted in her memory. "We got back before lunch, you were gone and Olczyk was waiting for us… and that was that. There were strange agents packing up your office." She looked at him. "You disappeared from our lives like one of our missing persons."

As if Jack hadn't also replayed it in his head a million times, leaving his office under escort, practically being frog-marched out. "I know… And it was tough, being cooped up in various hotel rooms, not being able to contact anyone, not going anywhere." It was the lack of contact with his daughters he found he'd missed the most.

"Did you lash out?"

His brown eyes looked at her steadily. _Yes, she knows me all right_. "I'll admit to trashing a rather nice hotel room one night. The two guys looking after me had to hold me down."

"I bet -you and your temper, but justified, I'd say." She couldn't imagine it herself, being cut off from everyone and those you loved. Just like a prisoner.

Jack carried on. "It was Max, the older guy. He sat me down in the debris and actually quoted something by Picasso, of all people: _When it comes right down to it, all you have is yourself_. And he was right. I wasn't going to get out of it, I had to accept what was going to happen, and I just had to look after me." He pulled his legs up and rested his arms on his knees. "And you know what? I honestly didn't think I'd be missed."

Samantha's jaw almost dropped. "What?"

"Everyone was busy with their own lives," Jack explained. "My girls had their mother; at least Hanna had already returned to Chicago months before, and the Marshals brokered a deal: if I went in the program, Maria and the girls would be spared going into hiding. They were to keep an eye on them for a long while. And of course, I knew the team could function without me and you…" He paused then, considering. "You were happy with Finn and his father. No-one's irreplaceable-"

"In a business sense, yes –but personally…"

"People get used to things," Jack pressed. "I just figured my absence wouldn't be missed so much, and like I said, since I _had_ to accept it, others would too."

Samantha had to look away as she took a deep breath. The thought that Jack could just give it all up and think he wouldn't leave a gap in anyone's life… She'd been staggered by his forced leaving. It had been a shock, as if he'd been suddenly struck dead. But then in a short space of time, she had been so busy with work, her new thing with Brian and of course, Finn.

Until it had all come crashing down months later.

"Are you okay?" she heard Jack ask.

She nodded, then tried to swallow the lump in her throat with a swig of water. She cleared her throat to speak again. "Did… did you really think no-one would want to find you? Someone you knew?" _Someone like me?_

He was rather dismayed at her words. "No –why would I expect anyone to do that?" he asked, self-effacingly, honest confusion on his features.

Not having an answer to that, she indicated to him to keep talking.

He wondered if something was bothering her, but continued on. "Before we'd even settled on Montana, Max helped me figure out what I should or could do, job-wise, before my handler was assigned. I had to hit the ground running when I got here, I didn't want to just do nothing or feel sorry for myself. If I were going to have a new life, I decided I had to get into it as soon as possible. The outdoors thing seemed a good idea -running trips for tourists and locals –and it has been. I may not be the most outdoorsy guy in the world, but the trick was to initially employ people who _were_ and learn from them. It's taken awhile but I've got a thriving little business down there," he said, a modicum of pride in his voice as he pointed in the business' general direction below them.

Samantha processed the information while she finished off her candy, still disbelieving he had been so accommodating of his fate. As she'd said by the river, she'd imagined him fighting against the decision to the last –one wrecked hotel room didn't seem nearly enough.

Jack could always dumbfound her.

He was examining the label on his water bottle. "One thing I can't figure out was why they thought I was their star witness."

"But you were, and it worked: your testimony put those two crime bosses away."

"I didn't think I'd been privy to enough information about their drug dealing, all because I was looking for a missing girl."

"It's curious how things turn out."

"Yes, and she's safe now." He thought of something. "You said you hadn't seen the team for awhile."

"Well, it's one of those losing touch things."

"But you do know what they're actually doing."

Nodding, Samantha knew this was an easy answer. "Vivian got your job, of course, and works pretty well with Olczyk, by all accounts. She got to choose our replacements over time and she has a pretty good team. Martin is doing something with the Bureau in DC-"

"Following in Victor's footsteps, I guess."

"Scary but true. He was always going to end up doing something like that, no matter how much he'd deny it. And Danny and Elena have got two under-fives –a boy and a girl. Elena's at home probably wishing she was back at work and Danny finally got admitted to the bar."

"Good for him!"

"The DA's office snapped him up; he's been doing a lot of good."

"That sounds like him… Well, well…" Nodding, Jack was contemplative. "You weren't kidding when you said things had changed -and all that started when I went into protective custody? I suppose it was stupid to think things would go on forever, staying the same."

"Perhaps it's a measure of your worth."

Jack shrugged, not knowing whether to believe it or not of himself. The idea of his team breaking up was bitter-sweet: sad they had dispersed, great that they were doing so well. He took another sip of water. "So, who are you working with?"

"McGovern's team."

"Lincoln McGovern, really?" Jack was clearly impressed. "He's a tough bastard. How did you do that?"

"I didn't give him much choice, he liked the work I'd done in Missing Persons, and he knew I'd had a good boss in you. It was actually _because_ I'd worked with you for so long that he took me on."

"I do know he wasn't pleased I'd inadvertently stepped into his field of expertise," he said, finishing off the last of his candy and tucking the wrapper into his jeans' pocket. "And Linc always has the best in his crew,"

She took the praise. "He's not stupid either; he figured out several months in that I was going after the cartel."

"And what did he do?"

"He called me into his office –I thought he was going to kick my ass- but he questioned my methods, congratulated me, and told me to keep up the good work. He said that he admired my single mindedness and the less bad guys around, the better for everyone." All in all, it had been a weird meeting. McGovern had sat behind his desk like a large lizard, with eyes that seemed to know much more than he was letting on. "Linc knew I was doing it for revenge for you, but he didn't know what my ultimate aim was," she finished, looking at him.

He could feel her eyes on her, but he didn't look back. The horses whickered and he turned his attention to them before speaking.

"Why the concern, Sam? Why are you risking everything just to see me one more time? I mean, you have your family… How old is Finn now, anyway?"

Samantha stopped picking at some grass beside her. **"**Seven**."**

"Really? …" Time does fly when children are growing up. He knew that from his own daughters. "What's he like?"

"I have a photo," she said, pulling one out of her satchel. "He's not blonde anymore," she reflected, sadly.

Jack looked at the picture of mother and son. "Woah, he's grown and I have to say, he looks a lot like Brian."

"Yes, he certainly does." _For my sins._ Samantha was way past the similarity after all these years.

"But I can see a bit of you in his features. Here and here," he said, pointing them out.

"Thanks, and as for his personality, he's too clever and precocious for his own good, and at school he loves math."

"That's a good skill to have early," he said, handing the photo back to her.

"How about Hanna and Kate?"

"I'm allowed to contact the Government once a year, they give me letters from them and I send them news and personal stuff which is carefully vetted before being handed over."

"Hmm, I'm sure you've found a way to keep in contact them."

"Not at all -once a year, that's it," Jack lied through his teeth.

Three years back, he'd managed to cajole his handler into letting him go to a week long outdoors convention-expo in Portland. For two days he played the part of interested attendee, and managed to do some business. He knew his handler would have checked the hotel reservations for names, but he was smarter than that. The third day he went to a payphone in the city and startled Maria with a call at her office in Chicago. He told her to get the girls on a flight as soon as possible and for them to stay at a particular hotel under certain names. There was no arguing about it. Within 24 hours Jack was reunited with his daughters for 3 days. Their fake email accounts were set up using a random netcafe and Facebook accounts were opened thereafter. Jack and his daughters had been catching up with each other weekly when Jack used the PCs at the backpackers hostel –which he happened to own part of.

But he wasn't going to tell Samantha any of that.

"How did you manage it all, Jack?" she asked, sliding the photo back into her satchel. "I doubt I could have done what you did –leave everything and everyone behind." She just couldn't leave it alone.

Concentrating on his hands, Jack knew there had been a few dark times, usually dealt with by a whisky bottle. He was long past them now –his daughters had eased that- but it hadn't been the emotional smooth sailing he liked it to sound. The first dark time had happened a couple of months after his arrival, he didn't remember anything at all and the blackout had scared him. The second time was when he'd been in Missoula for nearly a year. Feeling lonely and down, he'd wandered over to meet Warren, the owner of the backpackers that he eventually became a silent partner of. They'd talked over a few drinks in the bar next door, and then somehow Jack had woken the next morning in his own bed with a searing hangover, and a naked 27 year old German woman wrapped around him like a serpent. Her name was Jutta, she had long blonde hair, light brown eyes and even through the pain in his head, he noticed the resemblance to Samantha immediately. Jutta had decided that she was staying with him, much to his initial bewilderment. _Whatever_, he'd thought, needing the company, and just went with the flow. Jutta did her fair share of cooking, cleaning and initiating sex -all the while still living out of her backpack. Then one morning six weeks later, she announced she was going to Alaska, kissed him and left. Years later, he didn't know what to make of it all, but considering the number of lonely men in Alaska, he knew she'd have landed on her feet.

"Work keeps me busy," he said, not wanting to give away anything. "I like it that way. How about you?"

"The same: me, Finn and work also. It's enough." _Nearly enough._

He noticed she skipped over Brian. Perhaps they were having problems, which was entirely normal in any relationship.

"Did you ever think of me, Jack?" she asked quietly, hating herself for asking.

"Well, to tell the truth…" he began, wanting to choose his words carefully and then just giving up, "Not much. With sad regret at what could have been, perhaps." It was the truth.

"Ah…" Not the answer she wanted.

"I couldn't live in the past, Sam. The only way I can survive day-to-day is to move forward. Like I said, Jack Malone and his life have gone."

She admonished herself for being stupid.

Of _course_ he wasn't lying there in bed through the long nights, aching for want of him.

Unlike her.

She'd gone out on dates, for sure, and even had a few one nighters. But the guys hadn't been right. They weren't as handsome as Jack, or their eyes weren't the same hazel color, or they weren't as funny, or their voice didn't have that velvety quality his had. Having them over at her place was not an option and she didn't want to hang around at theirs, preferring to get home to Finn as soon as the deed was done. Once she'd figured out that she had been comparing them to Jack -and each and every one had been found wanting- she'd not bothered anymore. Work and her son kept her busy. The Marshal at the hotel had been the first in a long, long time.

Having had enough of the mountain and revelations, Samantha suddenly got up. "I need coffee," she announced.

Smiling as he got up, Jack knew that some things would never change.

Xx—

After taking off the bridles and saddles, and taking care of the horses –definitely a first for Samantha- they were just saying their thanks and goodbyes to Hank when Jack spotted one of his staff and the group he'd been guiding coming back from their trek. Excusing himself from Samantha, he went over for a catch up.

While waiting for him, she watched the ease in which he stood talking, finally content in his own skin these days, whereas she knew inside she'd become a fixated hard-ass. It hadn't been her intention, but over the time it had become second nature: deal to that pack of criminals to make Jack safe, to let her find him.

Still, she could still change the way she'd become, loosen up, become the Samantha from the past again. She couldn't do it here in Montana, but she had plans for the future, for herself and for her son; plans that weren't finalized as yet, but were definitely real and she was committed to.

Scoring the dirt with the heel of her boot absently-mindedly, she knew something needed to be said about Brian; Jack was still working off a five year old agenda –that she was still with him playing happy families.

And that agenda was just plain wrong.

Jack returned, apologizing about keeping her waiting. Watching as he opened his car door while she stood by the passenger side, Samantha took a deep breath. "Look, as for Brian…"

Pausing, he looked over the car at her, not particularly wanting to hear about him, but at the same time curious about what she was about to say. "…Yeah?"

_Deep breath_. "About four months after you left I walked in on him screwing Finn's babysitter on the couch."

There.

There it was, out in the open; her shame and failure at it all.

Jack was stunned and appalled. He closed his car door and walked around to her. "Oh, Sam…" Then a scary thought –and vision- occurred to him. "What, your babysitter, the older woman –_Maricella_?"

"No! … No, not her…" It shouldn't hurt to tell him about it, it was so long ago and she was over it, but… "It was much worse than that; she was a neighbor's daughter who would help us out. Jesus, we'd even been at her parents' place for her birthday party, giving her a gift two days before –when she happen to turn legal. I didn't realize Brian was planning on his own, more personal present." She risked a glance at him. "And yes, please feel free to say 'I told you so'. I've said it enough times to myself that you'd warned me about his prior." Shoving her hands in her back pockets, she looked away and over to the mountain they'd just been up.

Her face clearly reflected the pain she still felt at the betrayal, and Jack wasn't going to crow.

Far from it.

"After I gave you that information about him, you took his word for it -but you never talked to the girl concerned," he stated.

She shook her head. "I was an idiot, willing to believe anything he said I guess, him being Finn's father and all that. Anyway, I kicked him out as fast as he could pull up his pants, made the girl's parents come and get her, then I had a serious talk with them all… Then I cried, cleaned the place, gave away the couch to Goodwill the next day and cried some more… During all that time she was there, Finn had been sleeping in his room. How Brian could do that while his son was close by…" It still sickened her.

Jack somehow didn't feel elated that Brian was well and truly gone -as he definitely would have been once upon a time. Knowing it had been hard for her to tell him, "I'm sorry," was all he could say.

Sniffing back some dry tears, she opened her car door. "Why? It had nothing to do with you. It all happened after you left…. But, it was after Finn's second birthday, Brian had been gone a month. I was sitting there in my lonely apartment with my little boy and it just struck me-"

He waited, wondering what she would say next.

"I realized that I'd lost my best friend," she looked at him pointedly. "Not him, you... You were always there for me, one way or another, either at work or personally, and… I messed it up. Absolutely and utterly. So that's when I decided to help you."

"By finding me," he clarified.

"Yes, I wanted to get those bastards who put you here, so you'd be safe, even if you didn't know, even if it did take years, even if I didn't find you."

Jack stated the obvious, "But you did."

Nodding, she looked at him proudly. "I totally did. That whole gang has gone."

"And all because you wanted to see me," he finished for her.

"Yes," she said, as honestly and truthfully as she could.

Jack stared back at her, their eyes locked.

Not really thinking of anything to add, he lightly touched Samantha's shoulder in understanding, like he used to do.

She was grateful for that, and covered his hand with hers.

"I think we need that coffee now," he said quietly.

Xx-

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** Yes, I am fully aware of how long it's been since I updated this story. Yes, I know I am bad -but hey, here's a chapter! I can thank my hubby for replacing my old PC with a tablet which means I can do crazy things -like write at work during my lunch. Yes, I know your mind is blown at such a modern concept... Anyway, this chapter was turning into something much longer, so it needed to be broken up, so here it is. A big thank you to lovely Mariel for her helpful betaing, and to my eternal nagger Diane because she knows I need prodding. Also thanks to Tiffani, who is a newer nagger! There seems to be some new WAT fans out there favouriting my other stories, so 'Hi!' from me. Cheers to Anthony himself for the grass and wood quote, taken from his early Twitter guise where he was talking about being bored in Brisbane.

Is that it? Yes, I think it is.

**Rating:** T, but M in the first few lines, obviously.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own WAT, but I'd like the 7th season dvds, just to have the complete set.

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><p><span><strong>Out of the Blue<strong>

_Chapter Four_

Xx—

_Fucker._

_Absolute rat-fucking shit-head son of a whore bastard._

Jack's knuckles were white as he gripped the steering wheel.

Yes, he was flattered as hell that Sam had said he was her best friend, but the realization about what that absolute rat-fucker shithead son of a whore bastard Brian Donovan did to Samantha -and her son- was filling him with new-found fury.

He should have dealt with Donovan the minute he had opened the door and found him standing there, solving all future problems by punching the crap out of him, and sending him on his way. In fact, he had to face it, he'd _always_ wanted to do that to him, but never had, for Samantha's sake.

_That no good borderline-pedophilic asshole..._

Samantha looked over at him. He'd been quiet so far during the drive, but she noticed his clenched jaw and hands, and knew the reason. Reaching over, she gently put one of her hands over his. "It's okay, Jack. It happened long ago. I'm pretty much over it."

Jack practically snorted. "Yeah, but it's all new info to me… and I wish I'd been there to help you pick up the pieces."

"That would have been great -I certainly needed the help, but it's all far in the past now." She lightly squeezed his hand in thanks before removing it. "And I've made sure Brian doesn't get near Finn; if Finn wants to see him when he's 18, that'll be his choice."

Nodding, Jack gave in –a bit. "Okay… and if you need any help –remember you said we have a good place to dump bodies." He shot her a smirk.

Knowing that look well, she smiled back. "I'll keep that in mind…" Looking at the passing scenery, she wondered why they weren't heading into town. "Where are we going this time?"

"Back to my place," he said, giving into himself. "I have reasonable instant coffee."

"That sounds nice," she said, cool as anything, but absolutely thrilled at the idea of seeing where he lived.

Xx-

In Jack's apartment, Jack was already out of his boots and in the kitchen plugging in the kettle for the promised coffee while Samantha still wrestled with her hiking boots**.** She was too busy looking around to concentrate on pulling out her laces properly.

"You need some help with those?" he asked, trying not to be amused at her struggle as he came back over. Looking down at her, he was acutely conscious of her being in his private space, something that never crossed his mind as ever happening again.

It was like some surreal dream.

Like the whole day had become.

Shaking her head at his offer, Samantha managed to pull off the second reluctant boot and got up, her eyes scanning everything –walls that went high up to small windows, occasional rugs covering the wooden floors, several skylights. All clues to his apartment once being a warehouse.

Watching her as she looked around the large area, Jack now saw it through her eyes: the sparseness of it all, the emptiness, the few pieces of furniture that had been included hardly filling it. He'd always liked it for its minimalism, but now it was just looking bare.

"I don't recognize any of this," Samantha admitted, "except your turntable and vinyls."

"Max broke a few rules and got that from my place before everything was removed. All my other stuff is in some lock-up somewhere. I get it back after seven years, so they say." They had eventually sold his apartment in New York for him. The price had been good, and as he'd long paid Maria out her half after she'd left, he'd done quite well in the different market.

Samantha had known about the apartment selling; she'd even visited it with a realtor, pretending to be a buyer. All she'd gotten out of it was a misplaced nostalgia, and more pangs of missing him.

But now, walking around, she tried to build up an idea of what he was like these days. An old couch and coffee table were there, with a bookcase and TV against the wall; a small kitchen area on the far wall, with a dining table and a couple of chairs. Behind her were some Japanese-style paper screens hiding a washer and dryer, plus boxes of advertising pamphlets shoved beside them. There were some further screens around what she guessed was his bed, with dozens of photos pinned to them. Going over to study closer, she saw there were various nature shots, and quite a number of group shots of outdoor activities -photos from his new life she didn't know.

"Not many of you," she remarked as Jack joined her.

"No, I took them for the most part… I didn't need to be seen."

"You're quite the busy guy," she commented, glancing at him. "Action Man Chester Boyd."

"Well, around here it's not all hearing the sounds of grass growing and wildly passing the time watching planks of wood warp, you know."

"Ri-ight," she said, looking back at the pictures. There were a few of him and a dark haired woman, which were definitely to be filed under 'couple shots'. Samantha suppressed a shudder –the woman was a combination of Maria and that damn Anne Cassidy. She wondered briefly if Jack had realized that.

"There… there were two things I couldn't find out about you," she said hestitantly as she turned away from the pictures.

Jack was surprised her delving hadn't solved everything. "Which were…?"

"Whether you were with someone, or not."

He looked over at the pictures for a microsecond. "Not anymore," he said curtly.

Nodding, Samantha was frankly relieved –and made sure not to show it. "And secondly, I'd wondered what you looked like, if you'd changed yourself."

He was intrigued. "And what did you come up with?"

"Oh, some big, scary beard, living in a cabin in the woods, off the grid -you know, Unabomber-style crossed with Grizzly Adams."

Jack touched one of his cheeks. "I did have a beard for a short time. I think all guys in my situation do it. Women change their hair; men go caveman."

She'd never seen him with a full-grown beard; the idea was fascinating and she tried to imagine it. "Did it last long?"

Shaking his head, Jack smiled. "There was a hell of a lot of gray and it itched like hell, so it only lasted a couple of months, and that isolated cabin idea was never on the cards."

Samantha grinned. "Another thought was that you'd gone all _Brokeback Mountain_ cowboy…"

He was surprised at that, knowing how well they knew each other, and was amused. "Me? More like _Grumpy Old Men_, if anything."

Her gaze was drawn to the other side of the room, to the bookcase crammed full of novels and hardbacks. "You still like to read, I see," she remarked. Going over, she bent down to look at some titles. "Although there are some odd choices here, even for you," she said, pulling a chick-lit novel out.

"Ah… yes." Going over the now boiling jug, he wasn't going to elaborate where all the books came from: the same woman that Samantha had surely spotted in the photos, and who had put up all the photos on the screen. 'To make it more homely,' she'd said.

Well over a year ago he'd met Lara, a bookshop owner, at a business luncheon. It was the last independent bookshop in Missoula and she ran it well. The lunch date had turned into dinner dates, then something more serious and their relationship had gone on for nearly 10 months. Lara loved any wine, laughed a lot, talked a lot more, had a certain air of interest and experience about her, as well as being near to his age. He'd enjoyed waking up in her big, soft bed, when she'd greet him with some amazing breakfast she'd magically whipped up. She was definitely fun,and for a while there, Jack believed there could be something more permanent between them, and had wondered how it would fit into his witness protection-type life. He liked being around her home and her four grown-up children when they visited -it had given him some newfound sense of belonging, and a family life he'd missed. Jack liked them and they'd all gotten on well, but unfortunately Lara couldn't stop interfering in their lives and creating drama that didn't need to be there. It was a major fault of hers and he'd eventually gotten tired of it all. Added in was the ex-husband who seemed to hang around more than he should -in a familiar Brian Donovan way. The final two straws were when one of her daughters announced her engagement and Lara flew into a total organizing mother-of-the-bride tizz; then her son's partner became pregnant, which unleashed even more maternal meddling. He'd called their relationship off, much to her surprised annoyance and he found that while he actually missed her, he couldn't go back to her dramatic, controlling ways.

The lesson he'd learnt there was that he still didn't have luck with brunettes.

He should have learnt that long ago.

Alone was better for now –although his assistant manager Kelly and her husband were trying to fix him up with someone. He kept avoiding the issue, it was for the best and the business kept him happily busy.

"You can keep the book if you like: you're right, I never read it." Fortunately not all Lara's book gifts had been duds. Jack made the coffee –remembering how Samantha liked hers came easy- and brought it over to the couch as Samantha slipped the book into her satchel.

"Can I freshen up?" she asked, desperately wanting to explore more.

"Sure, the bathroom's over there," he said indicating a door off to one side, across from the kitchen area. Placing the mugs on the coffee table as she wandered off, he looked around again, thinking he really needed to stop making the place look like he could drop everything if needed and leave. This was his home now; he should start treating it as such.

The bathroom wasn't anything flash. On opening the door, a sink and mirrored cabinet were right in front of Samantha, the toilet was to the left, a shower stall further to the right. Small, but efficient. She opened up the cabinet to inspect the few contents.

"Are you checking it all out?" Jack's amused voice said from outside. "Anything of interest? Does my current aftershave meet with your approval?"

Caught out, she grinned. "What did you expect -how could I resist?" she called back, shutting the door fully behind her.

Now in the kitchen, Jack shook his head. "I'm hungry, grilled cheese okay?" he asked the closed door. A muffled 'Yes' answered him. Feeling almost domestic in a familiar way, he set to his task.

Xx—

"Mm," Samantha complimented him after wolfing down half her food. "You have good cheese here. I should get some for Mom." She hadn't realized she was so hungry.

Jack tipped his head. "High praise indeed from the Wisconsinite."

"Hey, credit where credit's due…" It was relaxing, sitting at Jack's dining table, making small talk. "This is nice," she commented, "almost like old times."

"Which old times were those?" Jack asked, finishing off his coffee.

"Oh, you know, the times when we were at work, eating lunch, talking about cases."

"True, and there was always Danny or Martin about, mooching."

"Or you were with Maria, or Anne," Samantha pointed out, "or tactfully ignoring me."

He couldn't fault her there. "Or there was him," Jack threw back, referring to Brian. "We never really could catch a break..." Brushing crumbs off his fingers, he wanted to change the subject. "So, how exactly did you get the cartel?"

Popping the last crusty morsel into her mouth, Samantha wiped her hands on a paper napkin. "I have it all with me on a USB stick," she said getting up and getting her satchel.

Pushing the plates and mugs to one side, Jack got his laptop ready for her and found his reading glasses. "You're very organized," he observed as she rifled through her bag.

"This is nothing," she said, sitting down and connecting her drive. "I even made a whole cut and paste mock-up outdoor equipment catalog, just in case I needed to use my cover. I bought my hiking boots a couple of months back to give them a worn-in look. I didn't want to look too green for the job… I've even become a bit of an expert in tents," she informed him.

Jack nodded, impressed as he sat opposite her. She'd certainly learnt a lot over the years – a far cry from the confident -if a tad shy- young woman who had strode into his office for an interview to join the team a lifetime ago.

Samantha opened a file. "Here it is," she pushed the laptop over to him, "these are all the members of the cartel, noted affiliates, what they did and what happened to them… Have a read, and I'll tidy up."

"Good grief," commented Jack, quickly scrolling through the pages. "This is a huge amount of info. I didn't realise there were so many in the gang."

"You didn't? Well, I didn't deal to them _all_ personally –I managed to get some rival gangs, as well as some well-timed inside gang rivalry, to take care of that."

Jack looked at the two top entries. These were the leaders of the cartel; one had had a fatal heart attack shortly after going to prison, the other –Eduardo Palucci- had died of 'natural' causes about a year ago in his cell. "Did you talk to Palucci at all?"

"More times than I care to remember," Samantha said, carrying the plates to the kitchen bench. "We actually got on quite well. He didn't like the way the gang was handling things while he was inside. He was still trying to control it, while others were trying to do the same without him. The cartel was strong, but relatively new, fragmenting them took a while, but when the wanna-be bosses got the Russians involved -just before Palucci died- it lead to all sorts of in-fighting until finally the remains of the cartel just disseminated into other gangs and locations. And you were not something they needed to deal, or bother with, anymore."

"You've really played the long game here, haven't you?" Jack said approvingly. "I never knew you had that much patience."

Samantha paused in her washing. "Actually, neither did I… Anyway, relax, read."

He was going to be there for a while, so after she finished, Samantha went to the couch and took out the chick-lit novel. She hadn't read anything like that for a while, so it was a novelty. She looked over at him, sitting there with his glasses on, chin in hand, an engrossed look on his face.

_Put him back in his black suit and __tie__, and it would be just like old times back at the MPU._

Sighing to herself at the yearning thought, she went back to her book.

Xx—

Jack hadn't exaggerated. It was positively screeds of information. He couldn't possibly read and absorb it all in one go. Each person had all their personal and criminal information there, including the details of what happened to them –death, prison or otherwise. The time and effort just putting this together alone must have been incredible. After 20 minutes he felt his eyesight start to blur. He hadn't been part of this world for so long -dipping back into it was like being made to visit a scary relative. Giving it a further five minutes, he rubbed his eyes, he knew he owed it to Samantha to read as much as he could, but it was hard going... Glancing over at her, he smiled at the way she was curled up, absorbed in the book.

She'd been like an avenging angel.

_No -like my very own guardian angel._

_And I never, ever knew she'd been doing any of it._

All those years, all that effort and trouble, to find him.

He knew he'd misjudged her –badly. Any hardness of character had ultimately been for him, and it would be wrong think it had totally transformed her. Being here with Samantha had been a good decision in the end; it hadn't been awkward at all.

_Just like old times._

He amended that –just like _some_ old times, the better ones.

Deciding to copy the file onto his laptop, so he could peruse it later, he hid it under a banal title in case his handler decided to snoop. Then he noticed another file on the USB. Curiosity getting the better of him, he opened it.

The file wasn't large, but it certainly absorbed his attention for quite some time. Flicking his eyes back to Samantha to make sure she was still occupied, he opened up a few of his own files, went online and started to look at his business accounts.

Xx—

Reading was becoming soporific, and Samantha looked over to see Jack concentrating hard. "You've lasted longer than I thought," she said, a smirk on lips.

Startled out of his concentration, Jack looked up, "Sam, what's this?"

Samantha wasn't surprised; Jack was a born investigator.

"Ah… you've found what I'm up to next, then."

TBC

Xx—


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** Yes, I know, all a bit fast for me but here is the next chapter, and one more two go which is practically finished. Thanks to Mariel who was as surprised as I was at how little she needed to edit -I must be getting the hang of this writing thing at last! A shout out to my naggers, Diane and Tiffani for their continued enthusiasm, and a big hello to Anne, who I have lost touch with and reviewed my last chapter and I'm pretty sure it's who I think it is, can you PM or email me? Okay, that's it, here you go, my patient grasshoppers.

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><p><strong>CHAPTER FIVE<strong>

Pulling over a chair, Samantha sat down next to Jack, not really surprised or concerned he'd found this particular file. Reaching over, she scrolled back to the file's beginning. "It's a project."

Jack had guessed as much from what he'd seen; he just wanted to hear about it from her own lips. "Looks interesting, fill me in."

She took a deep breath –it was time to come clean with her future scheme. "I'm tired, Jack. I'm tired of finding dead bodies, dealing with drug dealers, the Mafia, and breaking bad news to families…" She'd always found the latter to be the hardest part of her job. "So I'm planning to leave the FBI in about six months before I burn out, and move to Milwaukee, with Mom. She's already got her house on the market, and together we're going to buy a place in the suburbs. Somewhere with trees and a yard, where Finn can play. Mom's getting on and she wants to spend more time with us. This is the actual project, and these are the plans to convert a large disused hall into a community house." She could see him listening to her out the side of her eye. "You know, sort of after-school activities, programs –things to give back to the community, help give new starts, stuff, things…" she trailed off, starting to feel foolish. "I know, it all sounds a bit do-goody and crazy, but…. I want to start at the other end, give under-privileged kids a helping hand, a better start. Help adults get back on track as well." She risked a glance at him. "We've got planning consent, and sponsors. This is all part of the business plan I need. I'm meeting with some town planners and city councilors tomorrow. I was lucky to get them on a Sunday…" She finished, feeling she'd just given a crappy explanation of something she'd been working hard on. While the search for Jack had waxed and waned over the years, she'd decided on the venture a couple of years back and it had given her something else to strive for. It was going ahead, one way or another, and having some feedback from Jack would be good. "What do you think?"

Jack was looking thoughtful. "I don't know what surprised me more, this," he indicated the project, "or the fact you're doing this with your mom -in Milwaukee, of all places."

"I know, but things have been better between us, since Finn was born. She's not happy about flying to New York these days, and I can't always manage the time to get over to Kenosha -this weekend was the first time in months. Emily can come and visit her, instead of Mom always making the effort. Mom's helping me out with money, but she won't be too involved; her pay-off is spending more time with her grandson. All she wants is somewhere with a garden, and Finn's desperate for a dog, a chocolate brown Labrador." He had been very firm on that, she remembered with a smile. "Yes, it's time for us to move on from New York and the FBI –like you have."

"At least yours is by choice. But will the money be enough?"

She shrugged in a resigned fashion. "I admit it's a gamble, but one we're willing to take. We can manage… We'll have to."

Mulling Samantha's words over, Jack nodded. Turning in his seat to face her, his face had a pensive expression. "This is what you really, really want to do," he clarified.

"It's not a whim, believe me. It's something I feel I need to do. You told me once I had a good heart, and being a parent… it changes you, more than I ever thought it would." Pointing to the laptop screen, she nodded, satisfied with her dream. "This is it: I want to give back."

Knowing she was underselling herself and her prior years of service helping people, Jack studied her profile. "Have you told anyone in the FBI your plans?"

"Definitely not. But I'm going to have either a recurring problem with my leg wound," she said indicating her thigh –as if Jack had forgotten, "or take early retirement. I'll figure out whichever's best money-wise."

"Tsk," Jack reproached, smiling. He turned his attention back to the screen, and scrolled through a few pages.

Samantha wondered if there was judgment in his eyes. "I know, you think I've turned into some born-again Good Samaritan."

Jack shook his head; it was the furthest thing from his mind right then. "Would you like a partner?" he asked, just lobbing it out there.

She did a double take at him. "Sorry?" she asked, disbelievingly.

"Seriously, I mean it -look, it's a great idea, however any venture capital is never enough. I can help you there -I have some money tied up in another business, a backpackers. I can get it back. It's not a huge amount, but it might be enough to buy some more things for the place."

"You, as a sort of silent partner."

He tipped his head. "Only if you want."

"Wow…" She shook her head to unclutter it. "This is unexpected." Studying his familiar face, Samantha knew when he was being resolute -and he was, right now. "I want it to be perfectly clear that I didn't come here looking for hand-outs-"

"I know."

"And…you'd do that for me –really?"

Looking her dead in the eyes, he nodded. "I'd do that -for you."

"It would be years before I could pay you back."

"I'm not expecting the money back. It's an investment-"

"An investment with no monetary return," she cut in.

"Which is _fine_…" Jack leaned forward, took one of her hands in his own, and softly spoke. "There has to be something worthwhile coming out of what the damn cartel and the Marshals began all those years back... Let me help, Sam, please."

She looked down at his hand, seeing the scar from the nail gun, feeling his skin against hers, watching as his thumb lightly rubbed her knuckles… "And… ah…" _Remember to breathe_. "Would you maybe come over, if you could, and perhaps check your investment sometime, you know, when we're up and running?"

Her other hand was on her lap, reaching down he picked it up.

Jack knew the effect he was having on her -the only thing was, she couldn't hear how loud and hard his own heart was beating, which had taken him by surprise. His thumbs had started to rub –or caress rather- her hands without him even realizing what he was doing. He was throwing caution to the wind, and had done a complete 180 in attitude and outlook since she'd arrived in his workplace that morning.

"I could pass it by my handler," he said, clearing his throat, caught by the sudden dryness, "and only if you'd like."

Still looking at their now entwined hands, Samantha nodded imperceptibly. "I'd like that very… very… much."

Then she took another deep breath –and a gamble.

_Why not just ask? _

_All he can say is no._

The large apartment space was suddenly feeling much smaller and tighter, the air hotter. Maybe he hadn't noticed, maybe it was just her. She took another deep breath. "Jack… If you wanted to, if you could manage it, you could stay as long as you liked... with me."

He gasped imperceptibly as her eyes lifted to meet his.

This was a big ask of him, by her.

Massive.

And they both knew what she was asking, and what he would need to do.

He'd had to withdraw from the witness protection program.

Be on his own, with no government back-up.

But then, he was safe from the now non-existent cartel. Samantha had taken care of that. There was copious evidence to support it.

But most of all…

He'd have to leave Missoula.

Leave Montana.

Sell the business.

Leave everything he'd built up here over the years.

Start all over, again.

But this time on his _own_ terms and by his _own_ choice.

Play father to another man's son.

Live in close proximity to Patricia Spade.

Be nearer to his daughters.

Be with Sam.

_Be with Sam._

He'd learnt things from the past years: life was short, and precious –and perhaps most importantly, meant to be shared.

Did he want what she was offering?

There was no doubt.

_Hell, __yes__._

Close as they were sitting, Jack's lips suddenly met hers as his decision was made.

And the kiss was more than warmly welcomed. It was everything Samantha had dreamed of over the years, and so much meltingly better.

Out of breath, she found herself pulling away. "I just want you to know that I didn't come here for this, either."

Amazed as ever by her, he could think of better things to do. "Yes, yes, I get it." His hand was in her hair, coaxing her face back towards his. "And everything can change in a moment, I -we - both know that." This time their lips and mouth met more hungrily.

Cupping Samantha's face gently between his hands as they kissed, he guided her to stand up, and their arms wrapped around each other easily.

"I didn't realize anyone cared about me this much –_could_ care enough for me," Jack murmured into her hair.

"I'm either absolutely crazy or absolutely stupid. There were times I thought I should just give up."

"Well, I'm glad you didn't."

"I didn't because I _do_ care." Squeezing him tighter for a moment, feeling his body so close to hers for the first time in years, she knew she had another question. Hating herself for having to ask, but she needed to know. "Jack, I know you said you didn't think of me much in the past years…"

"Ye-es..." He felt bad at admitting that, but she had thrown the question at him while on the mountain, and he'd given an honest reply.

She buried his head against him. "But would you… could you… possibly…"

Angling his head so he could look down at her, he raised his eyebrows, wondering what it could be this time. She was certainly setting a record for beating around various bushes.

Looking up at him, her eyes were threatening to spill with tears and emotion. "I know you did once, but it's been a long time… Could you fall in love with me, again?

Jack smiled and stroked her cheek. "Oh Sam, can't you tell?" he whispered. "I already have."

Practically crying with a burst of laughter and relief, she kissed him again, hard.

Jack pulled away this time. "What time are you leaving tomorrow?"

"The flight's at nine."

He suspected as much. "Well, I won't be able to see you off as it's my assistant manager's day off and I have to run the business."

"So, we've just got from now until then," she stated as he nodded.

Jack then sighed. "We've got a hell of a lot of things to discuss, and I can't do anything until I've spoken to my handler."

"Well, you can't do anything about it right now."

"There are better things to do…" he said, as his hand slowly but surely slid down her back.

"Yes…" There was no way Samantha was going to disagree. "It's all about priorities right now, and since we're going to be in business together…"

His mouth curling in familiar smirk, his eyes were half-hooded. "Pleasure before business, I think."

She stood on tiptoes to be nearer his lips. "Sounds good to me, partner."

Xx-

Moving while kissing isn't easy, as it involves eyes shut, lips, tongues and legs, however while they did make it around the screens to Jack's bed, it was not without mishap.

Nearly by the bed, a misplaced sideways step by Samantha caused her to knock over a screen, which then sent the other two toppling over like dominoes, taking the photos with them.

"Well, it does open the place up a bit," remarked Jack after the noise settled, wondering if Kelly was still downstairs cashing up, as it was about that time.

"And it does look less like a hospital," Samantha said, thinking it was all very symbolic –especially with all those photos now lying face down on the floor.

Shrugging it off, Jack looked back at Samantha, still in his arms. "Now, where were we?" he said, spinning her around and then landing on the bed with her on top of him.

"Here, I think," she said, gazing down at him. Half of her wanted to ravish him desperately and feel him inside her, the other half wanted to stay right where she was and just gaze upon his handsome face, taking in every miniscule difference since she'd last seen him in New York. Reaching down, she trailed her fingers over his cheek. He in turn kissed her palm as it moved across his lips. "You're right –things change… Third time lucky for us?" she asked.

Returning the intense look she was giving him back, he nodded. "This time, for sure." As they began kissing again, he began to unbutton her sensible shirt, then he paused, frowning.

"What's up?" she asked softly.

"Jesus woman, how many layers have you got under there? This could take me hours…"

"Three or four -it's spring," Samantha explained, repositioning herself so she straddled him, much to his approval. "Here, let me show you exactly how many there are."

Jack was glad that he could do a basic thing like unbuttoning his shirt without looking, because then he could watch her striptease.

Xx—

"Mmm, say my name, again." When his voice was husky like this, it was hard to refuse him anything, especially with him lying between her thighs.

"Oooh Jaaaack…" Samantha practically moaned, tightening her legs around his gratifyingly naked body, holding him in place, feeling his hardness against her. "Now, say mine." It had been far too long.

"Oh…" There was that damn glint in his eye. "Haaayleeey…"

That earned him a playful slap on the arm from her, and a laugh from him.

"But seriously, you'll have to keep calling me Chester."

"Even in bed?" It was hard to keep the note of disappointment out of her voice as she ground her hips against him.

"No," he whispered in her ear, "in bed, I'll always be Jack." Then, his voice went even lower, in that toe-curling way, "Your Jack."

And after that torture, he finally thrust himself deep inside her, making her toes curl even more.

Xx—

Laced fingers relaxed.

Breathing became softer.

"As good as that night in L.A.?" he asked, tenderly brushing some hair out of her face.

"Better," she purred, and she kissed him again.

Xx-

Jack was lying on his stomach, resting his chin on a bunched up pillow, a glass of red in hand, watching as Samantha spoke to her son. Finn had been about to go to bed; it was late in Kenosha and he had been waiting for her call. Samantha had felt a little guilty about that –but her mother hadn't minded keeping him up late, and she'd been a little preoccupied herself…

"What's up?" she asked to Jack's bemused look as she put the phone to one side.

"It's not going to be a problem with Finn, but your mom -she's going to recognize me for sure."

"Well, yes..." She reached for her glass from the bedside table. "Maybe. Probably. But it's been a few years since she last saw you in New York, her eyesight's gotten worse and she might think you look familiar, but that should be about it. If she _does_ suspect you're the same person, she'll definitely mention it to me -I'll tell her she's going crazy and have to put her in a home."

"Really?"

"No," Samantha laughed at Jack's eagerness, "but the threat alone would stop her from going on about it."

"I suppose I won't be able to move in with you straight away; Finn won't remember me, but I can't suddenly turn up and be in your bed."

"True, but if we Skype, he can be part of that, he can get to know you that way."

"You really have thought of everything."

"Not so much a plan B, as a newly thought out plan Z."

He pushed the pillow away, rolled onto his side and propped himself up on one elbow, looking at her earnestly. "Tell me, what would you have done if I had been with someone else?"

She considered this. "Told you what I did for you, shake your hand, wish you all the best for your future, and go away."

"Huh," was all he could say before taking a big mouthful of wine.

"Yes, but then back in New York I would have drunk my way through a bottle of vodka, and cried into my pillow, sobbing your name…"

"Like hell!" Jack laughed.

Under her own smile, Samantha wasn't sure how much of it she'd meant, but it didn't matter now, not at all.

The point was moot: he hadn't been with anyone.

_Thank God._

Reaching over, Jack pulled away the sheet Samantha had demurely covered herself with while she'd made the phone call. Lightly trailing a finger around her breast, he continued on to her stomach. "What say we hit the shower?"

Something else they hadn't done together for a very long time. "Mmm, yes -can I wash your hair?"

"I'm counting on it, but only if I can wash yours first."

Xx-

"Sam, are you awake?" he asked, quietly.

"Mmph, just snoozing," she yawned, her head on his chest, his arm around her, dozily comfortable in his bed. Aside from naturally wanting to be with her son, there was nowhere else she wanted to be right now.

"Look up. See? This is why I put my bed here."

One of the skylights was directly above them and now the night sky was out, she could see the stars. "Oh, that's lovely…"

"So when you're back home, you can look up and know even though we're miles apart, we're still under the same stars." It was, he reflected the next day, one of the most sentimental things he'd ever said in his entire life.

Samantha considered this. "You remember how few stars we see in New York, right?"

"Sam Spade, I do believe you've lost your romantic streak."

She squirmed to look him in the eye. "Jack Malone, only a total romantic would have done what I did for you."

"Maybe a stalker would," he joked.

"A total romantic," she repeated.

"Okay, keep reminding me, you've earned it," he said, squeezing her tightly as she snuggled back into his arms.

Xx-

Breakfast was too early, but Samantha needed to get going. Jack was tired, he hadn't slept much as his mind had been whirring. Much to his amused chagrin, Samantha had slept like a log, and had been more than happy to give Jack a special, personalized wake-up call when it felt like he'd just gotten to sleep.

"You know," she said, stirring her coffee as Jack leaned back against the bench, sipping from his mug, "when you leave witness protection, you can go anywhere you want."

"Huh, I hadn't really thought about that… But I'm going to be wherever you are –even in glorious Milwaukee."

"But in the future, we could always take a trip to New York, if you wanted."

Jack stared thoughtfully into his coffee. "Once -aside from when I nearly went to Chicago- I couldn't imagine living anywhere else," he looked back up at her, "but now I know I can. I've got New York out of my system."

"I'm going to miss it, but it's my choice."

"It could take years."

There was no way she was going to disagree with that. "I want Finn to grow up somewhere less crowded, greener, in a proper house."

"You've made a good decision… And I'm happy be able to be part of it."

"Well, I did say I wasn't here to take you back to New York, but I wasn't planning in taking you to Milwaukee, either."

Smiling at her, he reached out and stroked her arm, before bringing her gently to him. "I know."

Xx-

Outside, the morning light was still dim. Hand in hands, the distance from the apartment to the car seemed far too short, no matter how slowly they strolled.

Jack had Samantha's burner phone in his pocket, the charger was back on his bedside table. Earlier she had phoned Finn and her mother, explaining to them she would be out of touch until she saw them at the airport as arranged. By giving the phone to Jack, it would be the quickest direct link between them for the next few months. It was an older phone, pre-GPS and untraceable; all Jack had to do was to keep it topped up with money and Samantha's other burner phone's number was the only one on it. They'd agreed to set up fake accounts on Facebook and Skype also. They needed to be in touch as there was too much to plan and discuss. It was going to be awhile before they saw each other again in person.

"Here's my car," Samantha pointed out, as they stopped. Aside from the store's jeep and Jack's own car, it was hard to miss in the empty car park.

"Yep," Jack said, looking around, swallowing hard, not expecting to feel the gamut of emotions at this time. His voice sounded as raw as it felt. "It's so damn strange -yesterday morning, I wanted you out of here, away from me and all this, and now all I want is for you to stay here more than anything."

"I know…" She didn't want to leave him, but she had her son and plans to put into action. "There's a lot happening today, but I'll phone you the minute I get to back to New York," she said, squeezing his hand.

He nodded, knowing the cellphone was going to be stared at a million times until she called. He grabbed her for another passionate kiss just as a familiar pick-up pulled into the car park. Jack knew it was Tick without looking, and didn't stop what he was doing.

Samantha, however, was too distracted. "We have company," she whispered. "There's an old man trying very hard not to look at us. He looks like a gnome."

"I know him; he can wait," Jack whispered back, burying his face in her hair. As she'd used his shampoo, and now it would remind him of her every time he used it. "Love you, Sam."

"Love you too," she whispered back. Loathing to do it, she pushed him gently away; she had to. "I have to go, or I'll miss the flight."

He sighed deeply, hating this new separation. "Yeah."

Another intense kiss that promised more of their new beginning, and she was in the car, driving away. She kept glancing in the rearview mirror, watching him getting smaller and smaller.

Physically leaving him was like a punch in the guts.

_But needs must._

Taking stock, all in all, she felt good and happy about what was happening with Jack, as well as nervously excited about her appointment in a few hours.

But most importantly of all, she felt loved.

_Things are finally working out._

Xx-

Jack stood there, watching the car recede into the distance, feeling her absence like an arrow piercing his flesh, but he knew that everything was going to was and would fall into place, so that tempered the pain.

Eventually, Tick got out of his truck and ambled over. "Hmmm, thought it was her again," Tick began. "You make one hell of an apology. Remind me not to let you upset me –your stubble would give me a nasty rash."

Jack gave him some attention. "Well, I hope you enjoyed the show…What's up?" A visit from Tick this early in the morning wasn't actually unusual.

"Oh nothing, I thought I'd bring you some of those flies I was telling you about. I'm off to Bitter Creek, see what's biting down there." He dug into one of his many fishing vest pockets and pulled out a small box. "They may amuse you."

Taking the box absently, Jack looked back in the direction Samantha had gone one more time. "Thanks."

Tick looked too, but with much less longing than Jack was currently showing. "You said she reminded you of someone?"

"Yes, from long ago." Jack had told people he'd been in private security 'back east' before coming to Montana, with a closed face that didn't invite further comment. The women he'd been with had been naturally curious about his various scars, but he'd remained tight-lipped about them, not even wanting to give complicated lies about them. 'Work related' were the only words he'd used.

Samantha knew all about his scars –both physical and mental. No-one else did, and that included his ex-wife and daughters.

Christ, he was already missing her more than he possibly thought…

Tick's voice intruded. "Not that I'm an expert or anything, but you've got a look that says you wish you'd gone with her."

"Yeah…" Mentally shaking himself out of his gloom and grateful for the diversion, Jack smiled warmly at the older man. If only his relationship with his own father had been this easy. "Come and have a coffee while I open -and let's just say…" _Oh,_ _what the hell… _"I'll definitely be seeing her again."

"Good on you… Here? Or somewhere else," Tick gave him a measured look, "as in, wherever she's from, because she ain't local."

Jack was surprised at Tick's perspicacity. "With her..." There was no use in lying –he was suddenly tired of years of obfuscating. "In Milwaukee."

Tick's eyes boggled at that, but for once, declined to comment. He was sucking loudly on his teeth in thought as they walked back to Jack's store. "You know, sometimes we don't know we're lost until someone finds us."

Considering this for a moment, Jack dipped his head in agreement. "For a cranky old coot, you really do come up with the wisest bullshit."

"Yep, that's me all over… If I was younger, unmarried and a pretty young thing like that came along, you wouldn't see me for dust."

Pulling out the store keys from his pocket, Jack grinned. "Tick, my friend, dust might be all there'll be to remember me by, but it's not going to happen just yet. Just keep it under your hat for now."

Lifting his cap, Tick followed Jack inside as he turned off the alarm and flicked on the lights. "Believe me Ches, with my state of baldness, it's the only thing under there."

"Good."

As he was about to open the door to the staffroom, Jack looked over his shoulder to find Tick just standing there, looking like he was chewing something over, but not with his teeth this time. "You okay?"

"I only wanted to say… and I may never say it to you again, so listen good -I'll miss you, son."

Smiling, Jack lightly punched Tick on the shoulder. "I'll miss you too, you cantankerous old bastard."

Tick barked a laugh and punched Jack back, but harder. "That's my boy!"

As Tick made himself comfortable at the staffroom table, Jack started to make the coffee. It was his second cup in a short time but after the long, delightful night, he was going to need it. Taking Samantha's cell out of his pocket, he placed it on the counter top, smiling at it, and to himself.

_It's happening with Sam, and it's going to be wonderful this time because it's going to work_.

Third time lucky, indeed.

TBC

Xx—


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Sorry for my procrastinating. This chapter should have been out long ago, but in the end I didn't want to let it go... That's all, there's a note at the end.

* * *

><p>Epilogue<p>

Part One

Night had just begun to fall when Jack parked his car outside the hall. He'd already booked into the motel and had left his worldly possessions there: two suitcases, his turntable and LPs. A quick refreshing shower had then eased out any driving stiffness. He couldn't see Samantha through the glass doors from this distance, but he knew she was inside as he'd phoned when he arrived at the motel. Happy to be finally at his destination, he found he couldn't get out of the car fast enough.

Xx—

Samantha kept an eager eye on the hall's front door, expecting Jack any moment. She was also keeping a maternal eye on Finn dangling some 20 feet up. It had been Jack's idea to include a climbing wall in the large hall, and he'd wrangled some suppliers to donate some equipment, the rest was built by volunteers –it was a huge hit, and may have to be expanded.

It must have been the 33rd time she'd looked over when he finally appeared, his hands in his jeans' pockets, practically sauntering through the door.

_As if he could fool me, looking so relaxed_ _like that_. She knew he was just as excited as she was.

The longer hair worked for him, and the gray beard he was sporting was well kept; he'd grown the beard for his first Milwaukee visit, adding a further layer to throw off any recognition from Patricia Spade. Samantha had liked it then, when she'd seen it a few months back, and she liked it now. He hadn't mentioned itching at all, brave soul. It gave him a distinguished look, and she was more than happy for him to keep it for however long he wanted.

Jack pretended a moment not to see her in the fairly empty hall. But then striding as quickly as his heart was beating, he met her halfway with a big hug.

It had been a total of ten months since Missoula, although four months prior Jack had been able to visit them for three short days, helping them move into a big house with a large yard. Patricia hadn't recognized Jack –if she had, she'd kept it to herself.

Back in Missoula, Jack's handler -and ultimately the US Marshals- had been surprisingly compliant in letting him go; he hadn't even had to show them the evidence about the drug cartel. It had only taken a few months for the red tape to be cut. Ultimately it would save the Government money having Jack gone, and he'd spent enough time as Chester Boyd as it was; if Jack wanted to leave the program and risk his life –in their eyes- then it was fine by them. Perhaps this happened more often than was generally known, Jack surmised. He had then negotiated selling his business to an eager Kelly and her husband, and even Tick and Rona had gotten into the action, asking to become partners focusing on the fishing tour business. Jack kept a small stake, partly to keep some money rolling in, but also as a way of keeping in touch with his Missoula friends. He'd missed Thanksgiving and Christmas with Samantha, and also the community house's official opening two weeks back –choosing to keep a lower profile- but he was here now, and that was the important thing.

Pulling away to look at Samantha, Jack couldn't help but grin broadly. "You are such a sight for these tired old eyes, believe me."

"You know you could have flown," she gently remonstrated him.

"Driving was nice –just longer than I thought." He'd taken his time, enjoying being a tourist in his own country. The 1,519 miles could have been completed in about 21 hours, but Jack had taken five days, much to Samantha's growing frustration. He looked around. "Where's Finn?" He'd been totally focused on Samantha.

She was about to point him out but Finn had already spotted Jack. "Hey, Chester!" he called out, waving.

Jack waved back. "Finn –look at you! How's it going up there?"

"It's awesome!"

Jack gave him a thumbs up and Finn went back to concentrating on his next handhold, with words of encouragement from a fellow climber helping him from floor level.

Samantha waited proudly as Jack looked around, reacquainting himself with the hall from his first visit. It wasn't an empty shell anymore, there were activity hubs – a small library, computer stations, the climbing wall to name a few. "What do you think?

They both knew the community house could either sink or swim, but there was no going back now. Both were committed to it, as much as they were committed to each other. "Honestly Sam, it's looking great," he said truthfully, "amazing what a bit of paint can do."

"Quite a lot of paint, spackle and hard work in the end. Come on, I'll give you the tour." After telling Finn she would be showing Jack around, they set off. She'd reintroduced Finn and Jack to each other on Skype, and their first in-person meeting had gone well; Jack had won Finn over with a wicked Swiss Army knife. A blatant bribe, but it had worked. Samantha was making sure Jack was around for important life changes for Finn: the house move had been one, and tomorrow they would be picking up the chocolate brown Labrador dog Finn desperately wanted. The puppy was officially known as 'Big Sky's Fly Me to the Moon', but was called Frankie in a Sinatra kind of way. And if things continued to run smoothly with regards to Finn, Jack wouldn't have to stay in the motel for too long. "Check out our office," she invited.

Opening the door to the small space, Jack saw and approved of the two desks facing each other. Samantha shut the door as he looked around, although truth to tell, there wasn't much to see. "We won't be here much, I suppose, but when we are, we can work across from each-"

Before she knew it, he had her pressed up against a desk, his leg between her thighs, his lips claiming all her attention. "Jesus Christ, I've missed you," he murmured, running his hands up and down her arms.

"Me too…" she managed, zeroing in for more kisses, enjoying the tickle of his mustache. The last separation had been excruciating for them both. Two frantic short nights those four months ago had not been satisfying enough. It had only increased their desire to be together. "Tonight, Mom's cooking up a storm for you, and when Finn's asleep-"

"My motel room," Jack huskily finished for her, a gleam in his eye.

"Your motel room's bed," she whispered, full of promise for their later assignation. To further emphasize her point, she slid her hands down to his butt and squeezed.

Not really wanting to wait but having no choice, Jack groaned. "Okay, then we should get back, see what Finn's doing and get to your place. You can show me around more, later."

Samantha smiled as she opened the office door. The desk could be christened another day.

Back in the main hall, they stood together, watching Finn make his descent. Samantha glanced at Jack, and she smiled again.

Chester Boyd was certainly as handsome as Jack Malone, his eyes were the same hazel color, he was just as funny, and his voice had that exact velvety quality Jack's had. His hair was grayer, and while Jack never had a beard, it suited Ches.

All in all, Ches was quite perfect.

Her hand found his and she held it firmly. "So, it's a done deal, but do you think we can really make a go of this?"

Jack was surer than ever that he'd done the right thing to be with Sam. Turning to gaze at her, his love obvious in his eyes, he squeezed her hand in return. "I do."

Xx—

Part Two

Vivian wearily put her keys in the bowl by the door as she came in, then made her way into the kitchen. There, Marcus greeted her with a kiss and a glass of wine. "Hard day?" he asked, knowing what the reply would be.

Vivian nodded as she sat at the breakfast counter. "Not so much running around as a stack of paperwork to get through," she sipped her wine, "and by stack, I mean a mountain –so much for aiming for a paperless Bureau. How about your day?"

"Much the same, grading research essays. I'm making my version of Caesar salad, okay?"

"Perfect." She was already more relaxed. They chatted about Reggie and other things, while the meal was being made.

Then Marcus pointed to the end of the counter. "There's something there for you, in the envelope."

Intrigued at the idea getting something not electronic, as well as in a dark pink envelope, Vivian was more than interested to open it. There was no return address on the outside which added to the mystery.

"Who's it from?" Marcus was just as fascinated.

Shrugging as she opened it, Vivian pulled out a card. "Aw, it's a thank you card from Samantha." They hadn't been able to make it to the wedding, so she and Marcus had sent a gift voucher, pooling the amount with Danny and Elena, as they hadn't been able to make it either. It had been too much organisation to get there and frankly, Vivian had lost touch with Samantha over the years. They may have been working a few floors apart at Federal Plaza, but their paths had seldom crossed. When they had, there had always been promises of getting together that never eventuated. People are busy, and life gets in the way. It had been lovely to get the wedding invitation, though.

Vivian smiled as she read the hand-written note. Samantha was now married -after what must have been a whirlwind romance- to some random guy called Chester Boyd, and together they were running a community house or something virtuous in Milwaukee. Although she had no idea about this Chester guy, Vivian was pleased that Samantha had escaped the FBI to do her own thing over there. Perhaps getting hitched would have finally exorcised the ghost of Jack. They all missed him of course, but she knew Samantha had probably missed him the most, especially after she'd kicked out Brian -although Vivian had never found out what had happened there.

"And there's a photo." Vivian's smile turned into a grin. It was a charming, candid wedding photo. Samantha was laughing, looking like she had been caught unawares by her groom from behind. His arms were around her waist and he was kissing, or perhaps even nipping, her shoulder. Not a great one of the groom, as all you could see was mostly the top of his graying head, however Samantha looked radiant in her wedding gown, clutching her bouquet.

Dinner was almost ready, so Vivian showed the photo to Marcus before putting it to one side on the counter. "It's nice that Samantha's finally settled down," he commented.

Vivian nodded as she got out some cutlery. "It's about time."

She was just setting the table when she stopped.

_Hold on a damn minute…_

Grabbing the photo again, she looked at it more closely –this time paying particular attention to the groom.

There was no denying it. She'd seen that face from that particular angle before as much she sure as hell knew that nose; she'd seen that view hundreds of times when Jack had been head down, working at his desk. The hair may be more salt than pepper, and there looked like he may have a moustache hiding there, but there was absolutely no doubt in her mind.

_Oh my God…_

Samantha had done it.

She'd actually _done_ it.

She'd tracked down Jack –somehow, somewhere.

_How the hell…?_

On second thought, the 'how' didn't matter, because Samantha was as good at finding people as Vivian was -although searching for anyone in witness protection was practically the holy grail of impossible.

It must have taken her goddamn years.

_Danny and Elena must know, too_. They would have received a card and photo as well.

Or maybe they might not have paid close attention to the groom with their busy family life.

Vivian was just reaching for her phone to call them when, again, she stopped.

_What good would come of this?_

Samantha and Jack were together, living a new life. Samantha had known what she was doing when she'd invited them to the wedding, knowing the secret would stay within the team if they were to come, and since they didn't, this was the most obvious way of showing them Jack without showing his face.

If Danny and Elena did know, then they would either call her or reach the same conclusion that Vivian had rapidly come to: _let the happy couple be._

They'd earned it.

They deserved it.

Give it a few years, then perhaps Vivian could find her way over to Milwaukee and visit them, but not right now.

She realized Marcus was staring at her. "Are you okay?"

Tucking the photo back into the card and the card back into the envelope, she smiled. "I sure am, and you know what? I think it's time we stop talking about it, and start planning that vacation we've always dreamt about. Somewhere tropical, just the two of us."

She could see Marcus was almost lost for words. "Really? That would be great! You're way overdue for some time off."

"I'm not the only one." Vivian gave him a big bear hug, feeling full of happiness.

And she knew, as much as Jack and Samantha knew…

True love always lasts.

Xx-

The End.

Xx—

And that's it for me in the world of Without a Trace fanfiction, and possibly writing fanfic itself. It's been great, it's been fun, it's messed with my brain, and now I feel it's time to stop. I want to say as always, a big warm thank you to Mariel –I started as a fan of her fic, then asked her to beta to my first story and it's turned into a long distance friendship. Plus she's taught me a few grammatical things along the way, especially in my narrative. A big hug for DianeM, always my strongest and most ardent supporter, and you think you like Anthony LaPaglia? You cannot compare to her devotion, seriously. Thanks to all the fans and friends of WAT I've met along the way. This couldn't have been possible without the original tv show and my adoration of Anthony and his Jack Malone, whom I loved writing. Thank you readers, new and familiar, it's been a blast.

XX Justine.


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